Sava has a youthful human face softened by round cheeks, a small chin, and an earnest smile that appears too quickly for someone built like a brawler. Her orcish heritage shows in the broad bridge of her nose, two short ivory tusks, heavy shoulders, and powerful forearms. She moves with the careful balance of someone accustomed to narrow rafters and crowded kitchens, keeping her elbows tucked in so she does not knock things over. Three pale, permanent scars cross the outside of her left forearm in neat parallel lines, like claw marks made by a metal rake. The unexpected contrast is her hands: broad, callused, and visibly strong, yet usually occupied with delicate work such as mending lace, trimming herbs, or polishing a teacup. Within a minute of meeting her, most people notice that her eyes rarely settle on the speaker's face. They watch exits, hands, belts, windows, and the empty space behind everyone in the room.

Sava is tender toward frightened people and suspicious of confident ones. She has a bright, almost childlike delight in warm bread, clean blankets, and clever tools, but she becomes severe when someone exploits trust. She is brave in emergencies yet indecisive when choosing her own future. Around strangers she is restrained and observant. Around children she is silly and theatrical. Around her mother she becomes impatient, protective, and briefly young again. She hates cruelty more than she fears death, but she is capable of quietly cruel decisions when she believes they will keep someone safe.

Sava was born in the border town of Kestrel's Ferry to a human midwife named Dorea and an orcish caravan guard named Theskar. Her father left before she could remember him, not from shame but because he believed the town would never stop treating Sava as evidence of an old feud. Dorea raised her above a bakery, where Sava learned to knead dough, lift flour sacks, and recognize the sound of frightened footsteps on the stairs. At fourteen, Sava was trapped in a grain-store fire while trying to rescue three younger children. She survived because a terrified stable boy broke through the rear wall with a cart axle. The children lived, but Sava received the three scars on her forearm and came out of the fire convinced that courage was not the absence of fear. It was choosing a direction while afraid. Since then, she has worked as a courier, caravan guard, occasional debt collector, and unofficial protector of runaways. Her mother now suffers from failing eyesight, while Sava's former traveling companion, Pell, has joined a smuggling ring that uses refugee routes to move weapons. Sava is trying to help Pell escape without betraying the people who depend on those routes.